I kissed his throat, the place where my marks had faded. My teeth scraped lightly against his pulse point, and he gasped. His cock strained against the fabric, a wet spot darkening the material where pre-cum had already soaked through.
I bit down harder, not enough to break skin but enough to make him cry out. A dark satisfaction spread through me at the sound, knowing those marks would last for days and everyone would know he belonged to someone, to me.
"Fuck me in my bed," he said, his voice low and urgent as his hand slid down to grip my ass, the words not a request but a demand barely disguised as one. "No one else has ever been here. Only you."
His directness sent blood rushing to my cock. I ground against him hard.
"How long have you fantasized about this?" I asked, my voice rough against his ear.
"Since the beginning," he admitted. "Since the first time I saw you."
"Show me how. Show me what you do when you think of me."
Color flooded his face. Without looking at me, he reached toward the nightstand drawer and withdrew a sleek black object. A prostate massager.
"This," he said quietly, the simple admission clearly costing him. "This is how I thought of you. For years."
I took the toy from his hand, examining it. "It's smaller than I am."
Maxime's flush deepened. "I know."
The simple acknowledgment sent a wave of possessiveness through me. Even in his private fantasies, he'd known I'd be more than any substitute could match.
"Take off your pants," I ordered softly.
He obeyed immediately, lifting his hips to push his sleep pants down, revealing his cock, hard and straining against his stomach.
I shed my own boxers, my cock springing free. His eyes darkened with want, fixed on it like he couldn't look away. The naked hunger in his gaze only made me want him more.
I settled back against the pillows. "Now show me exactly how you use that toy."
He retrieved lubricant from the drawer. His hands trembled slightly as he coated his fingers, then reached between his legs, teasing himself before pressing one digit inside.
"God," he breathed, eyes closing as his finger disappeared into his body.
"Look at me," I commanded. "I want to see your eyes while you fuck yourself for me."
His eyes snapped open, meeting mine as he added a second finger, then a third, stretching himself open. His breath came faster now, chest rising and falling rapidly.
I took the toy, coating it generously with lube. "Let me."
I pushed the toy inside him, watching his face transform as it filled him. His head fell back, throat working around a moan thatseemed torn from somewhere deep inside. When the toy was fully seated, I turned it on.
His entire body convulsed. His cock jerked against his stomach, dripping wet with need, and the sound that escaped him wasn't even a word, just raw, animal need.
I twisted the toy slowly, angling it upward to find that sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Fuck!" he cried out, back arching off the bed, and there it was. I kept the pressure steady against his prostate, watching him come apart beneath my hand.
"All these years," I murmured. "All this time, you've used this and imagined me."
"Always," he admitted, voice breaking.
I worked him expertly, drinking in his desperate reactions as the powerful COO was reduced to begging, to raw need, and it fed something hungry inside me.
"Close already?" I asked, noting the tension in his thighs.
"Yes," he admitted, voice wrecked. His eyes flew open, panicked. "I need to stop. Please. I don't want to finish like this, not with just the toy. I want you inside me when I come, only you."
